


Dream A Little Dream Of Me

by exmachinarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Lance is bi fight me, M/M, Mind Meld, dream walking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7477755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmachinarium/pseuds/exmachinarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance was making out with someone in his room. Which is exactly how he knew it was a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream A Little Dream Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> A cheer up fic for my wife who also likes the resident dumb gay potatoes of Team Voltron.

Lance was making out with someone in his room. Which is exactly how he knew it was a dream – with a family as big and nosey as his own, getting past a simple hug was pretty much impossible.

(He still missed them like crazy.)

His room was how he remembered it: not spacious but not cramped either, with a nebula poster next to the bed (glows in the dark), and a space shuttle model with one wing barely hanging on a makeshift fix of scotch tape and roll-on glue. Two glasses stood abandoned on the table, the sun filtering through the blinds making the lemonade fizz sparkle.

The boy sitting in his lap was currently busying himself with the crook of Lance's neck. Lance chuckled as he felt eyelashes tickling at his skin right before the spot beneath received a bashful peck. The boy's waist was thin, but Lance's hands fitted there just fine. The boy's own palms were both pressed to Lance's chest and he could tell they were just itching to dive underneath the shirt. He wouldn't mind that at all.

To speed things up a little, Lance moved one hand lower and gave the boy's ass a squeeze. With a yelp, he moved away and looked at Lance in surprise, eyes huge and questioning.

Lance could honestly say that out of many places he saw Keith in, his own lap was a first.

The moment of (embarrassed? anticipating?) silence stretched between them for much too long to Lance's liking. In the end, he decided that it would be a shame to waste such a nice dream. Smiling what he hoped was his most relaxed smile, he tugged on the hem of dream Keith's shirt, slowly but surely pulling him in for a kiss.  
He welcomed the feel of hands on his bare stomach with a relieved sigh.

***

Who would've thought dream make-outs could exhaust you to the point of missing the wake-up call the next morning.

Lance ran down the corridor, desperately trying to stick his arm through the jacket sleeve... Which ended up with him slamming against someone right as he was entering the deck. He opened his mouth to go 'sorry, Pidge', only to find out that unless the mullet disease spread beyond containment, it wasn't Pidge at all.

Apparently even the top-tier pilot of the Garrison couldn't be perfect all the time.

If anyone else found that strange, they didn't remark on it. With a quick hello, both latecomers settled with the rest of the paladins, Keith next to Shiro, Lance between Hunk and Pidge who waved a hand at him before covering a huge yawn.

"Now that we're all here... finally," Allura threw Lance a judging look, "Coran and I can present the results of our sleep monitoring programme."

Well shoot. Of all the times he could choose for dreaming about getting it on with his frenemy (totally a word), he just had to pick the last day of a week-long sleep scanning experiment. Now he could just sit there and hope that Allura at least had the courtesy to stop at technicalities and didn't actually sneak a peek into their dreams proper.

"... and in spite of having to work on a fairly small data cluster in one case," Lance was so concerned he didn't even catch Allura's monologue – well done there, "we managed to confirm that your connection as paladins deepened much quicker than expected. This is excellent news!"

"Excuse me for being cautiously enthusiastic," Hunk raised a hand, "but am I the only one who finds that news a bit worrying actually?"

"Seconding that." Pidge chimed in. "I mean, are there any side effects we should be worried about? You always emphasize the need to form a connection with our Lions and with each other, but you never really explained how it works in practice."

"About to fix that. Coran?"

Coran clicked his boots together and pulled up a bunch of holographic screens filled top to bottom with Althean writing, with occasional silhouettes of their lions.

"While you were flying about saving the universe, we conducted an extensive research on the connections between paladins. According to the records-"

"Wait, weren't those wiped out when..." Keith trailed off as everyone shot him a glare. Coran fixed his moustache nervously and cautiously gazed at Allura. If she ever faltered, it was gone before anyone could register.

"We're talking about a different kind of records. They're all explicitly about the previous paladins' experiences with the lions and can only be accessed when all the lions and paladins are within the castle's perimeter."

"Something like log books?" When Allura nodded, Shiro looked back to Coran. "Well, what can we expect from that deeper connection?"

"The symptoms recorded by past paladins included, but weren't limited to: sensing the exact position of other paladins and lions, communicating by thoughts alone, sharing emotions within the group ("We did that last week!" "No, that was just indigestion."), mind-melding, sharing dreams-"

"NO WAY!"

Bye, bye, last shred of dignity, been nice knowing you. Slowly, like in a horror movie, Lance turned his head to face Keith, also standing, also petrified by the realization. Looking Lance straight in the eye. With everyone else watching them both.

"Is there anything you'd like to share with the group?" Shiro asked uncertainly.

What Lance had in mind was his usual, vehement denial, but what came out of his mouth sounded more like one of Allura's mice. After a moment of spluttering, he finally managed to excuse himself and exit the deck.

As soon as he rounded the corner, he sped to his bedroom, locked the door and spent the next ten minutes screaming at himself into the pillow until his throat got sore.

Another ten minutes later there was a knock on his door.

"We need to talk."

This was the last thing Lance wanted to do, truly, but there was no other way around it. What happened on the deck earlier was enough of a proof that dream Keith was, well, just Keith.

"You start." Lance pressed his forehead against the bedroom door, arms still around the pillow in case more screaming was due.

There was a moment of silence, but when Lance was quite sure Keith gave up and walked away, he heard a sigh followed by a soft thump. It seemed that Keith had the same idea about where foreheads should go in that sort of situation.

"I'm sorry for, uh, dream-walking in on you..."

"You sure did more than that," Lance smirked despite himself.

"Cut me some slack, all right? This situation is embarrassing enough."

Point.

"I'm not even sure how I ended up there, I was having a completely different dream before... It was as if you dragged me into yours."

"Hey!" Lance bristled immediately. "For the record, I don't want you anywhere near my headspace."

"You sure seemed comfortable yesterday."

Oh no, Keith was so not pulling this on him.

"I thought it was a dream, you dolt!"

"Does that mean you dream of me often?"

"Of course not! I don't dream of you at all, got more than enough of you every single day!"

That at least was true. Sure, Lance had a lot of dreams with sexy times included, but they never featured actual people. Sometimes his partners had physical traits Lance found appealing: nice thighs, glossy hair, a gentle slope of shoulders... But they were all just generic stand-ins. Nobody he knew in real life. Certainly not Keith.

The other side of the door went quiet again.

"Listen, Keith. Let's just... try not to make it happen in the future, all right?"

"... Yeah."

***

It happened again. And again. No matter what they did, somehow their dreamscapes always managed to merge into situations that definitely shouldn't take place, not in their headspaces nor anywhere else.

They tried literally everything. Not sleeping (fail), taking turns sleeping (failed after three nights when they were too exhausted post-mission to keep track of the schedule), sleeping as far from each other as possible (which earned them weird looks from whichever crew member found them in the morning), sleeping inside the lions (they actually had an argument about whose stupid idea this was afterwards)...

"You know what? I take everything back. This is the dumbest idea we came up with." Keith glared at Lance across the bed. Which wasn't too much of a distance, really.

"No, listen, this is bound to work. When everything fails, use reverse psychology!"

"Says who?"

"Oh, shut up, mister I-Bet-The-Lions-Will-Contain-Our-Brainwaves." To Lance's satisfaction Keith coloured in embarrassment. "Anyway, time for beauty sleep. Nighty-night, flunky."

Keith huffed and turned away.

***

"Why did I ever agree to this."

Lance asked himself the same question. Not only did they get stuck in a shared dream again, but Keith was a real sourpuss in this one. He definitely liked the Keiths from his previous dreams far better... Wait a minute.

"Hey, you noticed? Something's different."

"What, missing getting your hands all over me already?" Keith tried to act annoyed, but he couldn't look Lance in the eye.

"As if... Hey, that's it! We're not making out! It worked!"

Lance punched the air (or whatever its equivalent was in the dreamscape), but Keith was far less celebratory. Which was seriously annoying.

"What now, mullet boy?"

"Don't call me that. And aren't you bothered that our dreams are still connected?"

Okay, that was a little bothersome. But they made a huge progress, couldn't Keith acknowledge that at least? When Lance pointed it out, Keith sighed and sat on the "ground", looking defeated. Lance walked over to the spot and sat next to him. After a moment he rested one hand on Keith's shoulder. Startled by the sudden contact, Keith looked up at him, eyes huge and questioning.

Just like when they dream-made out the first time.

It was a weird sensation, as if something tugged on Lance's heart and pulled it forward. Something similar must have happened to Keith, too, judging by how his hands slowly gravitated towards Lance's waist.

"Keith, we're... we're losing it again."

"You sure? Feels... different somehow."

"How?" Lance's breath hitched as Keith's thumb grazed the bare skin of his stomach.

"Just somehow, all right?"

Keith's hands snuck under Lance's shirt just as Lance's hands found a perch on Keith's lower back, right above the hem of his jeans. They paused and shared a look. Keith swallowed hard. Lance shot him what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

***

Lance woke up to his alarm clock howling and a warm weight restraining all his movements. After a brief struggle he managed to free his arm and slam the snooze button. The weight on top of him shifted with a grunt.

"What was that?"

"I said," Keith raised his head and fixed Lance with a glare. "I'm never trusting your ideas again."

"Sure, act like you didn't like it."

A fierce blush coloured Keith's cheeks and he buried his face in Lance's chest again. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, even without the dreamscape's weightlessness.

"Of all the people in the universe, it had to be you."

"That's my line. And hey, at least I have the right number of limbs and all. Imagine if you were dream-stuck with a tentacle monster-oof!" He choked when Keith's fist pounded the air out of him.

Keith's arms shook, but when he looked up again, his lips were quirked in a wobbly smile. Lance grinned.

"So, where are we taking it from here?"

"Judging by the hour, probably the deck."

"Wow, Keith, I never took you for the kinky one..." Lance paused, blinked and reached for the alarm clock.

"Aww man, not again!"

**END**


End file.
